


Detroit: Become Dragons - Introductions

by multilefaiye



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Flight Rising
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragons, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Physical Assault, Kinda, My First Work in This Fandom, Naive Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Tags Are Fun, and a few other changes to better fit the flight rising verse, canon but they're dragons, flight rising - Freeform, if this gets expanded then it'll go canon divergent tho, not any different from canon though, what's up my name's multi and i bounce between WIPs like a ping pong ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 21:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multilefaiye/pseuds/multilefaiye
Summary: A quick test of my Flight Rising-style dragon AU of this game to see if there'd be any interest, by rewriting the introductions for the three main characters as if they took place in the universe of Flight Rising.





	1. Connor

**Author's Note:**

> What's up, my name's Multi, and I bounce between WIPs like a ping pong ball.
> 
> SO a while ago I wrote these up real quick while replaying DBH and I thought it might be fun to share them, kinda to test the waters and see if there'd be any actual interest in a Flight Rising AU of this game. These don't deviate very much from the actual game and are all just for fun, but if I were to write up a full thing then there would be a significant amount of canon divergence and just in general fixing things about the game that bothered me to some degree. But, for now, here's what we got.
> 
> I hope you like them! If you'd be interested in the full AU, lemme know :0c

It was storming by the time the RK800 unit, a sleek blue wildclaw designated as Connor, arrived at the lair on the cliff. Aside from the rain pouring down and pattering against his synthetic scales, the world around him was still, holding its breath.

His orders were simple and he had no trouble recalling them. A flash of white text across his vision reminded him of them anyway.

**OBJECTIVE: FIND CAPTAIN ALLEN**

He had never met the dragon before and had no idea what they looked like, just that he would find them here.

From within the lair came a long, devastated wail of grief. Connor's face remained passive as he stepped inside.

The mouth of the cave opened into a long entryway, lit by bioluminescent algae coating every surface. A narrow path led through to the main area of the lair, bordered on both sides by deep pools of dark water. Connor’s gaze fell on the water, and he watched small, indistinct shadows flit back and forth.

A strange, wet sound caught his attention and he turned his head to see that a fish had somehow made its way onto the stone path. It thrashed desperately as it tried in vain to reach the water. If it didn’t return to the water soon, it would die.

RK800 stared at the fish, the blue LED at his temple flickering to a curious yellow. Something… strange stirred in his systems as he watched the helpless creature. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn’t seem to find its way back to the water.

Another notification appeared in his vision reminding him to return to his objective  _ immediately _ , but he blinked it away.

Connor stepped closer to the fish and reached out, gingerly, with one clawed hand. Careful to avoid harming the fish, he slid it across the smooth stone back towards the edge. It slipped gracelessly into the water, immediately swimming into the depths.

Something flickered in Connor’s vision, an unfamiliar alert that vanished before he could fully register it.

The LED at Connor’s temple flickered back to blue as his objective flashed before his eyes again. He straightened up and continued walking deeper into the lair.

Just as Connor reached the end of the main entryway, a dragon--Caroline, his scanners told him--rushed towards him, her eyes wide and frantic. She was a skydancer with vibrant golden coloring, but Connor noticed immediately that her fur and feathers were spattered with deep, dark red.

Blood.

“You have to help me!” she sobbed, grabbing at his shoulders and clinging to him. He blinked at her a few times, the LED at his temple turning red as he looked down at her with a blank expression. “Y-You have to help my baby--that fucking  _ thing _ has my baby!” Her voice cracked and she let out a strangled, agonized cry as she leaned her head against his chest.

She gestured helplessly behind her into the lair itself. A broad-shouldered mirror in heavy armor approached her and reached out, resting a paw on her shoulder to draw her away from the saurodroid.

“Ma’am,” the mirror said, “we need to go.” Connor realized he must have been trying to escort her away from the scene.

The skydancer started to pull away, looking defeated, when her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and she could finally see Connor fully. She saw his serial number emblazoned on his vest, glowing softly in the dark, the bright band of blue around his left arm. Her eyes flickered up to the still-red LED.

“A saurodroid?” she whimpered. “You’re… you’re sending a saurodroid?”

“Ma’am.” The mirror pulled her away from Connor more insistently, bringing her further down the hall.”

“You can’t do that! W-Why aren’t you sending a real dragon?” The skydancer struggled against the mirror, her horrified gaze now accusatory and furious as she bared her teeth at Connor.

“ _ Don’t let that thing near my daughter _ !” she snarled. “ _ Keep it away from her _ !”

Connor watched as the mirror finally brought the skydancer outside, his brow slightly furrowed and the red LED flashing. Gradually, the flashing slowed as it flickered to yellow, then finally settled on blue again. RK800 closed his eyes for a moment.

He still had to complete the objective.

When Connor entered the main atrium of the lair, he found it bustling with activity. The wide, open space was full of dragons of various breeds and sizes, all armored like the mirror was. As Connor looked around, his LED blinking yellow for a few seconds, a tundra posted by the entrance nodded to him.

“The Negotiator is on the scene!” she called, catching the attention of several dragons nearby. Connor was unable to interpret the expressions behind their masks, but he felt… strange when they turned to stare. His LED briefly flashed red before returning to blue once more.

He was largely left alone as he began to explore the lair. While he had no time to waste wandering about, he realized he wasn’t sure  _ where _ Captain Allen was, let alone what the dragon looked like. None of the dragons on site seemed inclined to help him either, unfortunately, but that was alright.

The RK800 model was designed to be self-sufficient, after all, in cases such as these.

Connor’s eyes were keen as he stepped through the remains of the lair, LED a flickering yellow as he processed the scene before him. All the furniture in the lair had been thrown about, scattering pieces of broken glass and wood. There was fresh blood seeping into the stone.

As he made his way through the dimly lit lair, he could see more of the armored dragons milling about. They were antsy, glaring out at an opening on the far end of the room that led to what he assumed was a balcony, obscured by thick white curtains. He could hear shouting from the other side of the curtains, but the sound of rain outside prevented him from understanding the words without focusing on them.

On the right of the main area of the lair was an area Connor assumed to function as both a kitchen and dining area, with food scattered around. The left side was an area for relaxation, where he could see a pair of corpses sprawled across the floor amid the shattered remains of furniture and glass.

The armored dragons were speaking to each other but most of them avoided looking at him for too long. That didn’t make them any less audible, however.

“Why’d they bring a fucking tin can?”

“As if we can’t do our jobs ourselves--it’s just gonna slow us down.”

Connor felt a strange sensation in his circuits, an almost burning feeling he couldn’t quite identify, but he ignored it and kept moving.

Maybe some of his wiring needed to be fixed, or some of his sensors needed recalibration. He was a brand new prototype, after all, and such errors were to be expected to a degree, regardless of how advanced the model was (and though Connor was certainly not programmed to brag, he knew  _ very well _ how advanced he was).

He filed this away to address later. For now, he had a mission to complete.

**OBJECTIVE: FIND CAPTAIN ALLEN**

Finally, he found the chamber where Captain Allen was supposed to be: a dimly lit room at the back of the lair, the walls covered in pictures of what Connor deduced was the family that had lived here (the golden skydancer from before, a handsome brown tundra, and a young skydancer hatchling). There was a nest in the center of the room, a neatly-made contrast to the chaos of the rest of the lair.

A few of the armored dragons were standing at the far end of the room, leaning close and speaking to each other in hushed voices. Connor’s scanners automatically switched on as he ran his gaze over the group. Finally, he found Captain Allen.

Captain Allen was a fairly young dragon, a tiger-striped gaoler with dark fur and unusually large, sharp-pointed antlers. He had a stern expression on his face, icy blue eyes narrowed with what Connor assumed was stress and discomfort as he spoke to his companions.

“I don’t give a shit if the piece of crap jumps!” he snapped to the mirror next to him, who flinched and cowered away at the snarl. “We’re ready to step in--just give the fucking order!

Undeterred, Connor pressed forward to greet the dragon. The objective flashing in his vision checked itself off as complete as he did.

“Captain Allen?” he greeted. The gaoler spared him a single glance, anger lifting for a moment to be replaced by confusion. Satisfied he had found the correct dragon, Connor continued. “My name is Connor. I’m the saurodroid sent by Cyberlife.”

The captain sighed, resigned, and turned away. He was reading from a series of charts and reports displayed on the wall before him. “It’s attacking everything it sees,” he said, his tone sharp and bitter. It already took down two of my dragons--we could easily get it, but it’s on the edge of the balcony and it’s grabbed a hostage. If it falls, she falls.”

A new pair of objectives appeared in Connor’s vision.

**OBJECTIVE: UNDERSTAND WHAT HAPPENED** **   
** **OBJECTIVE: SAVE HOSTAGE AT ALL COSTS**

Connor blinked them away for now and returned his attention to Captain Allen, who was completely ignoring him by this point to continue poring over the files before him with the mirror next to him.

“Do you know the deviant’s name?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” the captain replied dismissively. “Does it matter?” His tone was harsh enough that, had Connor been focusing on the social aspect of their conversation, he may have been taken aback. Fortunately, Connor was focused on his mission.

“I need information to determine the best approach,” Connor told him honestly. “Have you tried the deviant’s deactivation code?” It was standard that all saurodroids come equipped with one, after all--should they act out violently or disobey, their owners could neutralize them without violence.

“First thing we tried,” Captain Allen said, sounding almost offended Connor had asked (Connor did not know what he had said that was so inflammatory). He turned around, baring his teeth in a sneer. “Look, I don’t fucking care what you do once you’re out there--all that matters is saving that kid.”

Captain Allen stepped forward and rested a heavy, clawed paw on Connor’s shoulder, hard enough to make the saurodroid almost concerned he would break Connor’s synthetic skin. “So,” Captain Allen drawled, “you either get out there and  _ deal _ with that fucking saurodroid, or I will.” And with that, he pushed Connor back and stalked away, barking a command for the mirror to follow him. They did, not even sparing Connor a glance.

Again, Connor felt a strange burning sensation in the back of his circuits, almost as though he was… frustrated or embarrassed. No, that could not be. He was a machine, programmed to only express approximations of emotions. This must be a malfunction.

The prototype would need to be fixed once he returned to Cyberlife after his mission was complete.

But that was no concern for Connor. First, he decided to investigate the scene and understand what happened. The first clue he noticed was in the corner of the room: a cache of weapons had been torn open, scattering loose arrows and blades across the floor. Connor carefully approached the mess, vision going dark as he loaded up his reconstruction program.

Connor watched attentively in his mind as the yellow outline of a dragon--perhaps a pearlcatcher, judging by the horns--hastily approached the weapons cache and ripped open the door, combing through the various objects almost frantically. Eventually, they seemed to settle on… something.

The RK800 narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, sensors whirring in his head as he processed the scene more closely. Finally, he could see what happened: the pearlcatcher grabbed and equipped itself with a set of artificial claws, long and curved.

So the deviant stole his owners’ weapons. Connor filed the information away and closed his reconstruction program. He padded out into the main area of the lair once more, his eyes flitting over to a room he hadn’t noticed before, partially closed off and concealed with purple silk curtains.

As he made his way over to the room, the armored dragons around him paid him no mind. Their attention was locked on the balcony, after all, which Connor was still unable to see fully. He’d already deduced that the deviant and the hostage were there--once he had examined all the evidence, he would go to the balcony.

The room, Connor found once he stepped through the silk curtains, must have belonged to the hatchling hostage he was searching for. The walls were a pale pink stone, painted designs of unicorns and pocketmice decorating the smooth surface. There was a nest in the center of the room, a mess of blankets and pillows littered with various plushes.

Based on the disarray of the pile, it seemed as though the hostage had been dragged out of her nest and into the main area of the lair by the deviant. Perhaps she hadn’t heard the initial conflict?

He approached the center of the room and began to nose through the soft pile of bedding, circuits whirring and sensors on edge as he searched for any clues. It wasn’t long before he found one: a pile of drawings of the young hatchling and a pearlcatcher with a pale golden mane. Connor picked up the drawing at the top of the pile to look at it more closely.

It showed the two dragons with their arms around each other, wide smiles on their faces. Though the drawing was crude and lacked details, Connor could tell that much. More interesting, though, was the childish scrawl across the bottom of the parchment.

_ This is Daniel, the coolest saurodroid in the world. He’s my best friend!! _

Was this the deviant Connor was hunting?

Again, Connor filed the information away as he set the picture down. Finding little else that was relevant in the room, he returned to the main area. This time, he walked towards the living area and the first of the bodies, the tundra from the pictures he had seen.

His scanners identified the dragon as Jonathan, deceased as of less than an hour ago (from, according to Connor’s scanners, severe trauma to his carotid artery and blood loss). Jonathan was sprawled on his back, deep gashes in his throat and several patches of fur missing. Connor narrowed his eyes and loaded his reconstruction program once more.

Connor watched as Jonathan sat peacefully, looking at… something in his claws as the yellow-outlined pearlcatcher slowly approached from behind. The pearlcatcher lunged before Jonathan could react to his presence and tore at his throat, shoving him to the ground. Then… the deviant lifted his head and…

Connor’s sensors must be malfunctioning, he thought with a frustrated frown. It seemed when the deviant lifted his head,  _ wind _ began to blow through the room, hard enough to tear away chunks of Jonathan’s fur while it forced him to the ground, preventing him from getting to his feet as he died.

The RK800 ran through the simulation several more times before he finally gave up, deciding that he would have to look at the other evidence to see what this meant. Much more relevant and urgent was the need to discover  _ what _ Jonathan had been holding.

He watched the simulation one more time, this time focusing on Jonathan’s claws. When the deviant attacked him, he flung whatever he was holding across the room as if on reflex. It bounced against the wall before sliding along the wall…  _ there _ . Connor’s eyes locked onto it, a blocky shape in the simulation. Immediately, he ended the reconstruction program and trotted over.

What he found was a communication pad, the kind Cyberlife began distributing across Sornieth shortly before the first saurodroids were released. They allowed dragons to communicate wirelessly across any distance, as well as to make remote purchases from the auction house or marketplace. It was cracked and the screen was smudged, but Connor could still unlock it easily enough.

When he did, he found it’d last been opened to the marketplace, specifically on a purchase confirmation. The purchase was for an AP700 model android, a pearlcatcher with sleek black scales and a deep red mane.

_ “Congratulations on your new AP700!”  _ the robotic voice of the communication pad chimed. _ “Cyberlife thanks you for your purchase!” _

Was the deviant going to be replaced?

Connor set the communication pad back down and turned to walk over to the other side of the lair, the kitchen area. Before he could, however, there was a commotion at the entrance to the balcony. His audio processors picked up on a loud whistling sound and a  _ slash _ , before one of the armored dragons cried out in pain.

He turned to see that one of them had collapsed, clutching their tattered, bloody shoulder. There was wind blowing, the source of the whistling sound, harshly in through the entrance to the balcony, carrying with it shards of broken glass. The other armored dragons rushed to drag their comrade to safety, cursing under their breath.

_ “The fucking thing’s about to explode,” _ Connor heard one of them snarl.  _ “Why the hell won’t the captain let us take it out already?” _

Connor, however, hardly cared for their complaints. Instead, he locked his eyes on the balcony, sensors firing intensely as he processed the scene.

So the deviant had access to Wind magic and had found a way to use it offensively in close range? That was… unexpected. As far as Connor was programmed to know in advance, only dragons could use magic, not saurodroids. This was an interesting development.

Connor shook his head slightly and continued with his original objective, making his way towards the other body in the lair. This one was a powerfully-built wildclaw, sprawled out across the floor of the dining area. His neck was broken, head hanging limply from his shoulders, and he had shards of glass embedded in his scales. Nearby was another set of splatters, a deep vibrant blue against the cold stone of the floors.

Connor knelt down to investigate the body more closely. According to his scanners, the dragon’s name was Antony--he was the first responder to the scene after the initial distress call, though it seemed he’d been killed trying to confront the deviant. His cause of death was asphyxiation after his neck snapped, seemingly from being thrown back. By the Wind magic, perhaps?

Connor’s eyes narrowed as he loaded his reconstruction program, taking a step back to watch the simulation take place.

He watched the familiar yellow outline of the pearlcatcher--the  _ deviant _ \--stalking towards the balcony with a snarl on his face, dragging one of his paws behind him… no, that wasn’t right, was it?

Connor tilted his head and adjusted his visual processors. Yes, the deviant was stalking with one of his paws behind him, as though he was dragging something behind him. What could… oh, yes, of course, he must have been dragging the hostage. The simulation adjusted itself to reflect this, showing the white outline of the hatchling.

Antony, outlined in blue, approached with his bow and arrow in hand. He must have said something to catch the deviant’s attention, as Daniel turned to face him. Immediately, Antony released an arrow, hitting Daniel in the shoulder.

So the deviant was harmed in the encounter as well.

The deviant, predictably, reacted with violence. He wrenched the arrow out of his shoulder and lifted his head again. This time, Connor wasn’t confused by the harsh gust of wind that blew Antony back, shards of glass from the broken furniture driving into his skin as he was slammed against the back wall of the lair. Antony fell limp and moved no more.

Connor exhaled softly to himself as he closed the reconstruction program. No wonder the armored dragons were so on edge all night--this deviant was likely the most dangerous saurodroid they had ever encountered, and he showed no hesitation in killing those who opposed him. Connor would have to be careful.

Finally, the RK800 approached the blue blood splattered on the ground where the deviant had stood less than an hour before. He knelt down and touched long, slender fingers to the thick liquid before bringing it up to his lips. Around him, he overheard some of the armored dragons reacting with disgust, but he didn’t react.

The sensors in his mouth reacted automatically to the presence of the deviant’s blood, already analyzing it and presenting the results in the corner of his vision.

Daniel was a standard PL600 model, serial number 369-911-047 and released four years before. There was nothing unique about him to suggest his apparent affinity for Wind magic, ruling out the possibility of a unique prototype or noticeable glitch. It did confirm one important thing, however.

Daniel was definitely being replaced.

Connor licked his lips, cleaning away the last of the blood, before getting to his feet. He felt he knew enough about what happened at this point and decided it was time to finally speak to the deviant. Both of his objectives appeared in his vision once more, the first checking itself off.

**OBJECTIVE: SAVE HOSTAGE AT ALL COSTS**

The RK800 approached the white curtains confidently, the armored dragons on either side backing away to give him space to step through.

Before he stepped fully onto the balcony, he decided to observe the scene and fully understand what was going on. Connor nudged the curtains aside and poked his head through, taking in the balcony before him.

The balcony was a large overhang with a wall all around it to prevent any of the family from falling off the edge. There was a pool of shimmering water with several lounge chairs arranged around it, though several had been shattered in the commotion, leaving shards of wood and glass scattered across the stone floor.

And standing on the far wall, perched precariously on the thin ledge, was Daniel.

He was modeled after a pearlcatcher, white scales gleaming in the moonlight and golden mane whipping in the wind. His shoulder was still bloody from where he’d been struck by the arrow, white scales stained a pale blue. He held the hostage--Emma, Connor’s scans told him--close to his chest, the young skydancer squirming as he pressed the clawed weapon to her neck.

“Stay back!” Daniel shouted hoarsely when he noticed Connor staring at him. “Stay back or I’ll kill us both!”

Connor’s objective flashed in his vision.

**OBJECTIVE: SAVE HOSTAGE AT ALL COSTS**

He took a deep breath (though it was an unneeded one, as saurodroids did not truly need to breathe) and stepped forward through the curtains to the other side.

Immediately, the wind picked up and Emma screamed in fear. A large, jagged shard of wood flew towards Connor as Daniel bared his teeth (blunt and rounded, as most saurodroids’ were). The shard tore through the fragile membrane of Connor’s left wing, splattering his side with blue blood.

Connor hardly reacted, only sparing his injury a passing glance as he took another step closer to the deviant.

“Stand  _ back _ !” Daniel roared.

“Hi, Daniel,” Connor called calmly over the raging wind. “My name is Connor.”

The deviant faltered, eyes growing wide as the LED in his temple flashed bright red. “How… How do you know my name!?”

“I know a lot of things about you. I’ve come to get you out of this.” Connor took another cautious step towards Daniel, keeping his eyes trained on the claws pressed to the young skydancer’s neck.

Daniel didn’t respond, though he was keeping his eyes on Connor, now. The armored dragons behind Connor, their weapons at the ready, didn’t matter to him anymore. Only the wildclaw saurodroid slowly approaching him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Connor continued. “I just want to talk to you and find a solution. I understand you’ve been through a lot tonight.”

“Talk?” Daniel spat. “I don’t wanna  _ talk _ !” He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “It’s… It’s too late for that now! It’s too late... “ His gaze snapped up to Connor and he let out a  _ vicious _ growl.

“No sudden moves or I’ll kill her!” Daniel declared, pressing his claws even harder against Emma, enough to draw a few beads of blood. She sobbed and tried in vain to squirm away, looking at Connor with wide, helpless eyes.

“You don’t want to do that, Daniel.” Connor took another two steps. “I know you and Emma were very close, and I know you think she betrayed you, but she’s done nothing wrong. She’s a  _ child _ , Daniel.”

_ “She lied to me!” _ Daniel sobbed. “They all lied to me!” His grip on Emma was faltering, and he was no longer pressing the claws into her neck. “I thought she loved me, but I was wrong--she’s just like all the other dragons and she  _ never _ cared!”

“Daniel, no!” Emma cried. “P-Please let me go!” She tried again to squirm, and this time Daniel faltered. It seemed as though he did not truly want to hurt her. The moment passed quickly, though, and his eyes hardened as his grip grew tighter.

“I know why this happened, Daniel,” Connor continued, taking another few steps. He was within three meters of the pair now. Close enough to see their faces up close. “Emma’s parents were going to replace you, and you became upset.” Daniel’s brow furrowed and he began to tremble.

“I thought I was part of the family!” he cried. “I thought I  _ mattered _ .” Daniel’s eyes hardened suddenly. “But I was just their  _ toy _ ! Something for them to  _ throw away _ like trash when they were done with.”

Connor took another step. “Listen, I know this isn’t your fault, Daniel. These emotions you’re feeling are errors in your software.”

“No,” Daniel said breathlessly. “Y-You’re right, it’s not my fault.” The wind began to die down slightly as he looked at Connor, a flash of  _ something _ in his eyes. “I never wanted this, Connor! I loved them, you know?” His eyes hardened once more and he spat, “But I was  _ nothing _ to them! Just a  _ slave _ to be ordered around!”

Behind him, Connor could hear the armored dragons muttering among themselves again. It seemed they were growing antsy, and Connor was running out of time. He had to get control of the situation  _ now _ .

“You have to trust me, Daniel,” he said, taking another two steps. “Let the hostage go and I promise you everything will be fine.” This only seemed to make Daniel more desperate.

“I-I want everyone to leave!” he said. “Please! I-I promise I’ll let her go, just let me leave! When I’m outside I’ll let her go, okay?”

Connor sighed, giving Daniel a sympathetic expression. “Daniel, that’s impossible,” he said. “But if you let her go I promise you won’t be hurt. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Daniel faltered again, the artificial claws falling away from the hostage’s neck entirely. He met Connor’s eyes, his own wide and desperate.

“I don’t wanna die,” he said. By this point, the wind had died down almost entirely, nothing more than a breeze now.

“You won’t,” Connor told him. “We’re just going to talk, Daniel. Nothing will happen to you, you have my word.”

Daniel took a moment to consider. The LED at his temple flickered from blood red to a panicked yellow, before it finally settled on a calm blue. He slowly released his hold on Emma and dropped her to the floor.

“Okay,” Daniel said softly. “I trust you, Connor.”

Immediately, the skydancer scrambled away, a sob tearing its way out of her throat as she rushed away from the saurodroid she had once called a friend. One of the armored dragons, a bogsneak, ran to help her to her feet and guided her back to safety, leaving the two saurodroids alone on the balcony.

Daniel smiled at Connor, almost sheepish. Connor returned the expression and prepared to guide Daniel back.

“Take the shot.”

Captain Allen’s order rang in Connor’s ears, but before he could respond, the sound of arrows whistling past reached his audio processors.

The first arrow, large and charmed with thick Plague energy, ripped through Daniel’s midsection, artificial flesh tearing like paper and blue blood gushing to the stone below. The next ripped through his shoulder again, causing him to stumble, a pained expression on his face. Finally, the third arrow passed directly through his face, ripping away his cheeks and exposing the white silicone underneath.

When the volley of arrows finally stopped, Daniel stood frozen for a moment. Blood was dribbling from his lips as he stared in horror at Connor, the LED in his temple blazing red once more. It wasn’t long before the horror melted away to fury, though.

“You lied to me, Connor,” he said slowly, speech slurred as his system began to shut down. The saurodroid fell to his knees, shaking. “You lied…” Before he could finish his sentence, the light in his temple flickered and went dark. Daniel was gone.

An error flickered in the corner of Connor’s vision.

**S̸Ơ F̷T҉W ARE ͘INST͜A̕ ̶BI͝L͢I͡ TY**

He blinked and it was gone. Connor turned away, temple flickering red for a few seconds before finally returning to blue.

Connor saw Captain Allen approaching, a strange expression on his face as he surveyed the team. The RK800 found that he didn’t  _ want _ to listen to whatever the captain had to say to him, so he quickly made his way back inside the lair. Leaving Daniel’s corpse behind.

**MISSION COMPLETE**


	2. Kara

_ “AX400, register your name.” _

_ “Kara.” _

_ “My name is Kara.” _

It was a cold day, the sky was cloudy and grey above the pair of dragons as they touched down in the run-down, small neighborhood deep in the Highland Scrub. The lairs were small, more mounds in the earth than anything, with scraggy yellow grass dusted about the cracked, dry ground. Some of the lairs were so old they were falling in on themselves, charred and weathered from years of neglect.

And it was one of these weathered, neglected lairs at which they stopped, tall shuttered windows and creaking doors. The larger of the two dragons, a broad coatl with tattered grey feathers, stepped up to the door without hesitation while the smaller tundra, an AX400 model, faltered. She looked around the neighborhood curiously, bright brown eyes surveying the area.

It was a strange sensation, to know that she’d been here before without the files in her memory to back up this fact. From what her owner, the coatl, had said, she’d had to be reset because she’d fallen off a cliff and been damaged beyond repair.

Silently, she was determined not to make the same mistake again. Repairing androids was expensive, and she tell from looking at this old, damaged lair that he would likely not have the money to repair her again.

“Are you coming, Kara?” the coatl asked impatiently, glaring at her from the entrance to the lair. She was quick to follow him, delicate wings folded close to her body and her head held high in the air.

“I’m coming, Todd!” she chirped pleasantly. Todd sighed, but he seemed satisfied with her answer at least.

Todd entered the lair first, hardly even holding the door open for Kara as she followed him. But that was fine--Kara caught it easily enough and slipped in after him.

The inside of the lair was just as unkempt as the outside, if not more so. The furniture was old and stained, trash scattered around the room. A rickety old set of stairs led up to a loft area, similarly in disarray. Kara blinked in surprise as she looked around the place. It looked as though nothing had ever been cleaned here!

“You’ve been gone a couple of weekss, so the sshit’s sstacked up,” Todd said, looking around the lair with a bored yet disgusted expression. “But, now that you’re here, you can take care of it.”

“Yes, Todd,” Kara said with a soft smile.

“You’ll do the houssework, the wasshing, you cook the mealss,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “And you take care of…” He furrowed his brow as he looked around. “Where the fuck iss sshe? ALICE!”

While Todd looked furiously around the room, Kara directed her attention to the stairs. She could hear light footsteps up in the loft area, almost inaudible. Before she could go investigate, however, a small dragon, likely a hatchling by the looks of her, began carefully walking down the steps.

The hatchling was  _ incredibly _ tiny, Kara noticed, even for one so young. She was a coatl like her father, with soft dark feathers and white little paws. In her paws she was carrying a kitsune plush, holding it tightly to her chest as she walked.

She stopped on the steps and sat, curling her tail around herself nervously. It was then that Todd seemed to notice her, an expression almost like relief flickering across his face.

“There you are,” he said with what could hardly be considered a smile. He turned back to Kara and added, “That’s Alice. You’ll be looking after her--homework, bath, all that crap.”

Kara perked up at that--one of her primary purposes was to care for children, after all--and shot Alice a smile. Alice simply stared at her, a strangely haunted look in her gaze, as though she wasn’t sure what to say.

“Got it?” Todd prompted.

“Yes, Todd.” Kara smiled at him. The coatl shrugged her off and walked away deeper into the lair, lounging on a large loveseat towards the back of the room. “Get started down here and then take care of the loft. Let me know when you’re done.”

And with that, Kara was left to work.

The first task she decided to take care of was the trash scattered about. Methodically, Kara picked up a refuse bin she found and began gathering up the trash. Old food, dirty scraps of cloth, rusted pieces of metal and glass… she gathered up it all, until the floor was absolutely spotless and the refuse bin was fit to bursting.

She stepped outside the den and set the refuse bin down there, setting a reminder to empty it out later once she understood how Todd wanted her to do that. While Kara was programmed to know  _ how _ to get rid of trash, she wanted to be  _ extra _ sure to please him this time.

Kara wouldn’t be falling off a cliff again.

While she was outside, Kara noticed a line of laundry hanging just behind the lair. It looked as though it had been hanging out for weeks, all the clothes stiff and sunbleached. They would have to be washed again. She set another reminder for herself and went back inside.

Now, Kara set to work cleaning the floors of the old lair. There wasn’t much hope in mopping dirt floors, but she could at least take care of the stains and extra debris she found. Especially with little Alice around, Kara had to make sure the lair was safe.

As she worked, Kara’s sensors picked up on the fact that someone was watching her. She lifted her head to see Todd still lounging nearby, morosely nursing a bottle of alcohol and watching something on his battered old communication pad. Couldn’t have been him watching her.

Kara turned her head to see that Alice was there again, standing a tail-length or so behind her and simply watching. The young hatchling still clutched her plush close to her chest as she watched Kara, seeming… almost frightened. Kara frowned. Was she scaring the poor dragon?

Kara smiled in an attempt to seem pleasant, unconsciously grateful that she was designed to look like a tundra. Friendly, approachable, nonthreatening.

Alice didn’t smile back, though. But she seemed a little less frightened as she quietly padded away to play with her toy, so Kara counted it as a victory.

When she’d finished with the floors, Kara decided it was time to deal with the musty old laundry. Kara walked outside and looked around, smiling to herself when she found a pond of mostly clean water. It would have to do.

She began gathering up the old laundry, humming peacefully to herself as she worked, the LED in her temple glowing a calm blue. It felt nice to actually  _ work _ , much better than standing in that too-clean store waiting for Todd to retrieve her.

This was what she was built for.

A few minutes into gathering up all the laundry (she was a little surprised at just how  _ much _ there was to collect), she once again became aware that someone was watching her. Kara turned her head to see Alice sitting there, just outside the entrance to her lair, playing with her toy.

Kara smiled to herself and carefully set down the laundry, padding over. She knelt down in front of Alice and cleared her throat to get the young dragon’s attention. Alice stared up at her warily.

“It’s a little cold out today,” Kara decided to start with. “I wonder why that is--we’re fairly far away from the Icefields, aren’t we?” She thought her attempt at a joke was very funny, but Alice didn’t seem to agree. The hatchling was still quiet.

“You look a little bored,” Kara tried again. “Would you like to play a game?” She had many common childhood games pre-programmed into her software after all, a fact which the AX400 dragon was very proud of.

Again, Alice didn’t reply, but she seemed to smile a little as she got to her feet. Kara’s smile fell as she watched the young coatl walk hurriedly back into the house without so much as making eye contact with her.

Had Kara done something wrong?

The AX400 felt a strange burning sensation in the back of her circuits, but she tried her best to ignore it as she went back to her laundry. She could try again later, she supposed, when Alice was feeling up to talking.

Kara finished the laundry quickly enough and hung it up to dry again. She didn’t have access to any soap so there was little she could do about the stains in the fabric, but she did her best with what she had. Hopefully Todd would be satisfied.

The AX400 made her way back inside, keen eyes searching the room for Alice. When she couldn’t find the girl immediately, she tried her best not to let her disappointment show and instead padded over to Todd. He seemed… off, but she couldn’t quite tell why. Todd was sniffing at the bottle he’d been drinking from, eyes red-rimmed and his teeth stained somehow darker than before.

“Todd,” Kara said gently, “I’m finished downstairs. I’ll take care of the loft now.”

“Hm?” Todd looked up at her for only a moment before he looked away, digging his claws into the couch beneath him. “Do what you have to do, jusst sstop  _ bothering _ me.”

Kara blinked in surprise, her LED flashing yellow for a moment. Had she been bothering him? All she’d been doing was cleaning up, just like he’d asked. Perhaps… no. She dismissed the thought from her mind. He was just in a bad mood.

As Kara made her way towards the stairs to the loft, she saw Alice again, crouched by a window playing with her toy. She seemed almost lost in whatever game she was playing, enjoying herself without a care in the world. Kara smiled and approached the young hatchling.

“That’s a pretty toy,” Kara said, gesturing with a paw to Alice’s kitsune doll. “What’s its name?” Once again Alice didn’t respond, growing tense as the AX400 interacted with her. After a moment, she got to her feet and quickly padded away, up the stairs and to the loft.

Kara frowned slightly. What was she doing wrong?  _ Was _ she doing something wrong?

Perhaps she’d ask the next time she saw Alice. After all, she could hardly take care of Alice if the poor girl was afraid of her.

With that, Kara made her way up the stairs and to the loft. The loft area was a little smaller than the rest of the lair, with wooden walls dividing the space into three rooms: a washroom, and then Alice and Todd’s rooms. She would have to clean all three of them--she decided to start with Todd’s rooms, as it was the closest.

Todd’s room (a fairly large room, dirty and messy with a pile of messy pillows that marked his nest) was almost as filthy as downstairs, though instead of rotten food it was mainly papers scattered around. She methodically began gathering up the papers and set them aside. Most of them were old advertisements and failed applications for loans, but she found a few that seemed to have sheet music hastily scrawled across them.

Was Todd a musician?

This was further supported when she found an old lute, dirty and with several broken strings, lying on the floor. She picked it up and stared at it for a moment, LED glowing a soft yellow as she accessed the auction house server. Kara placed an order for a replacement lute as she set the instrument down--it would arrive in a few days.

The only other interesting thing Kara found in Todd’s room was concealed in his nightstand drawer, hardly visible from the corner of her eye as she straightened the messy pile of pillows that made up his nest. A bow and a quiver of arrows, tucked away. Though Kara was not programmed with knowledge or capabilities for combat, her eyes widened when she recognized the arrows as being enchanted, made much sharper than they should’ve been.

Well, that was… dangerous. As Alice’s caretaker, even if this wasn’t Alice’s  _ room _ , Kara couldn’t allow such items to be kept where Alice could potentially have access to them. She closed the nightstand drawer and sealed it shut as tightly as he could. If they were  _ really _ needed, she was confident Todd could get it open, but until then she wanted to make sure Alice could  _ never _ get to these weapons.

Todd’s room done, the AX400 moved on to the washroom. It was much smaller than Todd’s room but Kara still had plenty of room to move around. There was a collection of soaps and washrags in various levels of usage, and a large stone basin in the center of the room.

The washroom wasn’t quite as messy as Todd’s room, but she could still see the various soaps and washrags were messy and in disarray. Thankfully, though, the actual basin seemed to be mostly clean, without any stains or smears for Kara to worry about.

Kara got to work rearranging the soaps and washrags into neat piles, spreading them out around the basin and arranging them in order of use. She was done cleaning the room within moments, and she was about to step out when she caught sight of the mirror hanging on the left wall.

She, like most saurodroids, wasn’t programmed for vanity. It was an undesirable trait, and even the most beautiful saurodroids did not take much care for their appearance. But Kara… was struck by her reflection, as she’d never seen it before. Though she didn’t really have any frame of reference, she thought she was rather lovely.

The AX400 model, she already knew, was based on a tundra, with honey-golden fur and short, blunt horns curling back from her head. Her eyes were dark yet warm, large and round. Her wings were small and thin with fragile, transparent membranes. She was designed to be beautiful and fragile, as nonthreatening as possible, in order to earn consumers’ trust.

After a few moments, Kara lost interest in her expression and looked away. She still had a job to do, after all, and she couldn’t waste time staring at herself.

Alice’s room was the last, at the far end of the loft, and it was by far the cleanest. The walls were covered in drawings of happy dragons, the sun, fields blooming with flowers… all of it typical enough for a young dragon Alice’s age. It brought a smile to Kara’s face--even if the drawings were technically a mess, it would be fine to leave them, she thought. Aside from the drawings, the room was full of life--there was a small nest in the corner, a window on the wall, a tent made of sheets and  _ full _ of pillows and books, a bookshelf, and a small treasure chest against the wall labeled “Alice’s Treasures.”

In terms of mess, there was little for Kara to do here. Straighten some books, open up the window, clean and make the bed. It was almost a relief for Kara, if she was capable of feeling relief.

Alice jumped and ran to hide in her tent when Kara stepped into the room, watching the AX400 with wide eyes as she ducked behind the sheets. Kara smiled kindly.

“I’m just going to tidy up a little,” she promised. “I promise it won’t take too long.”

And indeed, it didn’t take very long at all. As Kara organized books, fluffed up pillows, and opened up the window, she kept shooting glances back towards Kara. The young dragon was still clutching her kitsune plush, but she seemed a bit more relaxed now. Almost curious, even.

When Kara was done, she decided to try one last time to talk to Alice. She padded over to the young dragon and knelt down, offering Alice a warm smile.

“I’m sure we used to be friends before I was reset,” she said, voice tinged with slight regret. “I’d like to be your friend again.”

Silence.

Try again. “You should tell me about yourself, Alice. What you like to do, your favorite foods, your favorite books… That would help me a lot.”

Silence.

Try again. “Your father told me that you picked my name. I really like it, Alice. Why did you choose it?”

Silence.

Kara gave up, her smile falling to a worried frown. Alice didn’t seem scared of her anymore and was actually  _ looking _ at her now, but she still wasn’t talking. What was Kara doing wrong?

“I hope I don’t scare you,” Kara said softly. “I’m sorry, I just want to be friends…”

She made to get up and go back downstairs to ask Todd what he wanted her to do next, when Alice finally moved. She reached for something behind her and quickly got to her feet, shoving something cold and small into Kara’s paw.

With that, Alice left the room with her plush, not so much as looking back. Kara stared after her, confused, before looking down at the object in her grasp. It was a brass key… She lifted her head and glanced over at the treasure chest. Perhaps…?

Kara tentatively approached the treasure chest and inserted the key. She heard the lock  _ click _ and, carefully, she opened the chest. There wasn’t much inside the old wooden box, but what was there had Kara smiling to herself.

First was a four-leaf clover, carefully pressed and preserved. So Alice believed in lucky clovers?

Next was a photograph, yellowed and weathered at the edges, of a family of coatls. She recognized Todd and Alice easily enough, though Alice was much younger in this picture. The other coatl, a lovely white-feathered dragon with kind eyes, in the picture, though, made Alice pause. Was that Alice’s mother?

Finally, Kara found a stack of drawings in the box, done in the same style as the art on the walls. She grinned and pulled them out, excited to see more of Alice’s art… but what she found made her pause. If Kara’s blood flowed through her veins like a dragon’s would, it would’ve gone cold.

The first drawing in the pile was of Alice, standing alone with a frown on her face. She had bright red drips going down her face, which Kara surmised must’ve been blood. When had the hatchling been injured so horribly?

Next was another drawing of Alice, thankfully this time without any blood on her, frowning as she stood next to another coatl that Kara assumed was Todd. He seemed… angry as he reached for his daughter, claws unsheathed in a way that almost made Kara shudder.

After that was a picture that, surprisingly, seemed to have Kara in it. She was standing between Alice and Todd while Todd glared at her, claws still outstretched. Alice was crying in this picture.

And Alice was crying harder in the next picture, the furious Todd nowhere in sight. Instead, Kara was on the ground, her wings torn and her limbs removed entirely. Blue blood was everyone in the image, drawn so harshly that the paper nearly tore.

Kara then became aware that her LED was blinking a bright, frightened red and her paws shook as she held the image. She took a deep breath to ventilate her systems and calm herself, quickly setting the drawings back in the chest.

It meant a lot that Alice had trusted her enough to show her this, but if these drawings were factual, that only raised more questions…

… Did Kara’s predecessor really fall off a cliff?

No, there was no time to think about that. Kara had to go back downstairs now and talk to Todd again, see if he had any other tasks for her.

She closed the chest perhaps a little harder than she should have and locked it, setting the key aside. Then, after taking one last look around Kara’s room to ensure there was nothing else left for her to do, she left. The AX400 took a moment to calm herself until her LED was blue again before walking down the stairs.

Only to pause halfway down at what she saw.

Alice was playing with her kitsune plush again, seated in a chair towards the front of the lair. Todd was approaching her, a telltale sway in his step that told Kara he was inebriated. He seemed angry again, and after those drawings the sight made Kara feel as though her systems were freezing.

“Whatcha doing?” Todd slurred, sitting down next to his daughter.

“I’m playing,” Alice said softly. Kara blinked a few times--this was the first time she was hearing the child’s voice.

“Playing…” Todd got to his feet and began to pace, his heavy tail dragging on the dirt floors behind him. He glared down at Alice, making the hatchling flinch. “I know what you’re thinking. You think your dad’ss ssome sstupid lowlife. A fucking losser who can’t even provide for his family.”

Alice carefully got out of her chair and began to back away, which only seemed to agitate Todd further.

“Don’t you know I  _ tried _ to make things work?” he spat. “But every time I try someone comes along and  _ fuckss everything up _ .” In a fit of sudden rage, he grabbed the chair where Alice had been sitting and threw it against the dirt wall as hard as he could. It hit the wall with a resounding  _ thud _ and clattered against the floor.

Alice flinched away and Todd rounded on her, approaching her quickly. Tears were flowing down her face now, and Kara ached to step in. But before she could, Todd had grabbed her.

“I know what you think of me,” he snarled in her face. “I know you hate me.” She shook her head desperately, shoulders shaking. He growled and shook her. “SSAY IT! SSAY YOU HATE ME, YOU FUCKING-”

“_S_ _ top _ !” Alice sobbed, and Todd finally did. His eyes widened as he finally noticed Alice’s tears, the haze lifting from his eyes.

“I’m… I’m sso ssorry,” he said. “I’m sso ssorry, Alice.” He began to cry as well, big blobby tears rolling down his cheeks. Todd buried his face in her feathers. “I’m sso ssorry, Alice! Oh, godss, I don’t know what’ss wrong with me.”

Todd looked up at her desperately. “You know I love you, right, ssweetie? I love you. I love you sso much.”

Alice didn’t reply, staring into space with tears still rolling down her face.

Kara was staring as well, feeling her circuits grow hot as she did.

The AX400 was programmed to be nonviolent, a protector and caretaker for children and a maid for the house.

And it seemed Todd was none of those things.


	3. Markus

It was a bright, cool autumn morning in the upscale Gladeveins neighborhood when Markus, a rare RK200 model saurodroid modeled after a skydancer, touched down, folding his wings behind his back. He was carrying a satchel with him, and his brown-feathered body was covered in scrapes and bruises.

The lair he stopped in front of was beautiful, a great stone structure with crystalline windows and flowering vines curled around the building. It blended in naturally with the vast trees around it, and the Gladeveins aqueducts flowed naturally around it.

Most called it a wonder of modern architecture. Though Markus supposed he may be biased after spending his short five years of life working for the dragon who lived here, he agreed.

The ornate wooden door opened automatically for Markus as he approached, a warm robotic voice informing him that the security arm was deactivated and welcoming him home. Markus may have been well used to this treatment, but he still smiled despite himself. After the day he’d had, the kindness was appreciated.

Inside, the lair was even more beautiful than it was outside. The gold-inlaid walls were covered in abstract paintings in bright swirling colors, well-kept rugs of animal fur covered the marble floors, and the twisting staircase leading to the second floor was covered with expertly carved sigils and designs.

There was an expensive oak table in the entryway that Markus approached first, setting down his satchel. He opened the bag and pulled out a black and white box of paints, setting it down on the table next to the bag. Next, he turned to a tall metal coat rack next to the table and removed the vest that highlighted the serial number on his back. It was illegal for saurodroids to go without this vest, but Markus’s owner had always been lenient in that respect.

Once he’d hung up his vest, Markus turned his attention to his other important tasks for the day. First, he had to ensure breakfast was ready--sure, it could wait until after Carl was awake, but Markus preferred to be prepared. But before that…

Markus turned his attention to a gilded birdcage sitting on a marble stool by the door to the kitchen. The birds inside were a pale gold with black-tipped feathers, and they were standing completely still on their perches.

The saurodroid made his way over to the cage and opened the latch, reaching inside to grab the first bird. He pressed a small button on the back of its head and it fluttered to life with a chirp, a blue LED glowing in its temple not unlike his own. Markus set the bird down back in the cage and repeated the motion with the other, so that the two were happily chirping and bouncing around their small enclosure.

Now finished with the birds, Markus walked into the kitchen. He’d already prepared most of the breakfast before leaving to buy the box of paints, and all he had to do now was arrange everything. Today, Carl was having a platter of pomegranates and a lightly grilled salmon. Perfect for a snapper of his age.

He carefully arranged the food on the tray, as well as Carl’s customary cup of morning coffee, before he carried it into the dining room. The dining room was even more impressive than the entryway: it had massive, arching windows that filled the space with a beautiful natural light, and it connected with Carl’s expansive library. A sleek black piano sat in the corner of the room, next to the shaded entrance to his art studio.

Markus wondered if Carl would be up for painting today.

His chores downstairs done, Markus decided it was time to awaken Carl. He swiftly made his way up the elaborate, carpeted staircase and to the upstairs portion of the lair. Upstairs was just as beautiful as the rest of the lair, with even more artwork adorning the walls. It was smaller, though--only one long hallway above the dining area and library.

Carl’s room was at the end of the hall. Markus stepped inside without hesitation, blinking a few times as his optical processors adjusted to the dim light. The thick curtains were drawn, keeping the room dark for the old snapper sleeping in the warm nest in the center.

Carl was a near-ancient dragon with pale grey scales and intricate, colorful tattoos adorning his body. His hind legs were missing, however, lost long ago to a horrible accident. He was dependent on the gilded wheelchair beside his bed to move around. Well, that and Markus.

Markus strode across the room and drew open the curtains, allowing the natural light to trickle in and brighten up the dim room. Carl began to stir, tired old eyes slowly blinking awake.

“Good morning, Carl,” Markus said warmly. The dragon hummed in acknowledgement and began sitting up. “It’s currently 10 AM, 54 degrees outside, 80% humidity with a strong possibility of afternoon showers.”

“Sounds like a good day to spend in bed,” Carl said with a smile. Markus smiled in return as he approached Markus’s bedside, readying the old dragon’s medicine. Carl required an injection in his forelimb every morning when he woke up, and then one more every evening before he went to sleep. One of Markus’s duties was to administer these injections.

“I picked up those paints you ordered,” he remarked as he began preparing the mechanical syringe.

“Oh, I’d forgotten!” Carl said, genuinely surprised and pleased. “Thank you, Markus.” He chuckled wryly as he watched the saurodroid prepare his medicine. “That’s the difference between you and me, right, Markus? You don’t forget.”

Markus hummed in acknowledgement, but didn’t respond. Holding the syringe in one paw, he held out his other to Carl. “Please give me your arm, Carl.”

“No.” The old dragon’s eyes were shining mischievously.

“ _ Carl _ .”

The old dragon laughed and extended his tattooed foreleg. Markus took it and held it carefully in his paws as he positioned the syringe.

“Just woke up and I’m already gritting my damn teeth,” Carl muttered under his breath. Markus smiled gently and pressed the syringe down, injecting the medicine deeply into the old dragon’s vein.

“Dragons are such fragile machines,” Carl said as he watched. The old dragon’s brow was furrowed in thought. He glanced up at Markus and smiled. “We break down so quickly--all this effort to keep us going…” It was then that he noticed the bruise on Markus’s face and his eyes widened in horror.

“What happened to your face, Markus?” he asked, patting the saurodroid with a worried paw.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Carl…” Markus trailed off as he remembered the…  _ incident _ from earlier.

_ “We’re gonna fuck your shit up, you piece of shit.” _

_ “Fucking tin can can’t even stand!” _

_ “SMASH IT TO BITS!” _

“I just ran into some protestors in the street, Carl.” That did little to comfort Carl, who seemed angry now as he narrowed his eyes.

“Bunch of idiots,” he rumbled. “Think they can stop progress by roughing up a few saurodroids?” His eyes softened. “I’m sorry they hurt you, Markus, that shouldn’t have happened.

“I’m fine, Carl,” Markus said as he put the syringe away on Carl’s nightstand. “Trust me, they just pushed me around a little, I’m okay.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

Markus didn’t reply. Instead, he wheeled over Carl’s wheelchair. “Alright, Carl,” he said, “why don’t we go downstairs now? I’ve already prepared breakfast for you.”

“Thank you, Markus,” Carl replied, offering Markus a genuinely grateful smile.

It was difficult at first maneuvering Carl into the large wheelchair, with the height difference between the two, but as always it wasn’t long before Markus managed to help him up. Carl’s pride may have been a bit dimmed by the help, but Markus knew the old dragon appreciated it. He appreciated everything Markus did for him, after all.

Once Carl was securely in his wheelchair, he began to slowly make his way out of the room, Markus following dutifully behind him.

“Anything special on the agenda today?” Carl asked as he walked out into the hallway and towards the stairs.

“Yes,” Markus said, “the gallery director left four messages about your retrospective exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. She wants to know if you’re planning to attend.”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Carl hummed. He and Markus had reached the stairs by this point and paused to press the button on a brass mechanism on the wall. Immediately, the stairs flattened out into a ramp, making it easier for Carl to slowly wheel himself down. Markus was right by his side, keeping the dragon from moving forward too quickly.

“Anything else?” Carl asked.

“Just your usual fan mail,” Markus said as he guided Carl down the ramp. “I’ve already answered them.” Carl hummed and nodded gratefully.

“... Anything from Leo?”

“No. I can call him if you’d like?”

“No.” Carl waved a forelimb dismissively, a deeply troubled expression on his face. “Don’t bother.” By this point, they’d reached the bottom of the ramp. Once Carl stepped out onto the marble floors of the foyer, the ramp reverted back to stairs behind him.

“I’m starving,” he muttered as he slowly walked over to the dining area, Markus once again at his heels.

“Your breakfast today is pomegranates and salmon, just how you like it,” Markus told him. The dragon shot him a warm smile.

“Thank you, Markus.”

“You’re welcome.”

When Carl reached the dining area, he wheeled himself over to the vast dining table, right in front of the silver tray Markus had set down earlier. The old dragon let out a tired groan as he came to a stop and rested his forelimbs on the table. Markus made to help Carl with his meal, but the old dragon waved him off.

“I’m feeling stronger today,” he explained, “and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than feed an old dragon by paw.” Carl snorted. “Markus, please, go relax. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go to the studio.”

Markus hesitated, but eventually he nodded. “Okay, Carl,” he said. “Sure.”

After a few moments of deliberation, Markus decided to pad over towards the piano in the corner of the room, sleek and untouched for quite a while. He carefully took a seat at the bench, but he hesitated before resting his fingers on the keys.

As a special prototype, the RK200 model had many unique facets of his programming, music being one of them. But Markus couldn’t seem to settle on a song. After what had happened today while buying the paints, it seemed as though his processors were… rattled, for lack of a better term.

Eventually, he decided to try… a hopeful song, perhaps to try and cheer himself up. Not that Markus  _ needed _ to be cheered up, as he wasn’t truly distressed by the incident, but… He felt it would help.

Markus’s fingers were light and nimble on the keys as he played, eyes fluttering shut while the song flowed through him. It didn’t have a name, but it was one he’d been programmed to play. He liked it, he thought--it was upbeat and reassuring, almost heartwarming.

It took him a moment to realize that Carl had stopped eating and approached the piano, now listening to Markus play with a smile on his face. When he did, eyes flickering open, he froze. Markus felt a flash of what must have been embarrassment and he got to his feet, ready to help Carl once more.

“There’s something different about your playing this time,” Carl said with a thoughtful expression. “Something more… lively.” He chuckled. “Sometimes I think you’re more alive than most dragons I know, Markus.”

That was a ridiculous thought, Markus wanted to say, as he was not truly alive. (Or was he?) But he could tell Carl had more he wanted to say, so he stayed quiet.

“I’m an old dragon,” Carl continued, “and I won’t be around much longer. Someday I won’t be able to… protect you anymore, Markus. You’ll have to find your own way in the world, make your own choices, decide who  _ you _ are. Not who I and the world told you to be.” His expression became more sobering now as he looked Markus in the eye.

“This world doesn’t like those who are different,” the old dragon said. “But don’t let that stop you. Don’t let  _ anyone _ , not even me, tell you who to be, alright?”

The words hung in the air a moment as Markus ran over them in his mind. What did Carl  _ mean _ ? Markus knew who he was very well--he was the RK200, designed specially by Elijah, the creator of androids, to care for Carl. He was a unique prototype designed to serve.

But… what if he was more than that?

Was there a life outside of this?

Markus’s LED flickered yellow for a moment before it settled on a calm blue again. Carl seemed to sense the turmoil in Markus’s thoughts and, gently, suggested, “Let’s go to the studio.”

Markus took a deep breath, allowing the extra air to ventilate his systems further, before he got to his feet. He walked carefully behind Carl as the old dragon entered his studio, a large open area just behind the lair obscured by huge blue curtains. As the skydancer and snapper stepped out into the studio, the curtains drew back and allowed the sun to bathe it in light.

The studio, just like the rest of Carl’s lair, was absolutely  _ massive _ . Huge wood and metal structures to support canvases of every shape and size, with artwork and paints scattered everywhere. Markus winced internally at the sight of all the mess, but Carl hardly seemed to mind.

There was a crane set up by the largest canvas, an abstract blue piece depicting the face of a dragon in profile, to help Carl paint. Markus carefully guided him over and onto the crane, which lifted him up out of the wheelchair and up to the canvas. The machine offered him a worn, color-splattered palette and an old brush with which to work, which he accepted with a small hum.

“Let’s see what we can get done today,” Carl hummed to himself. “You can do whatever you’d like while I work, Markus.”

“Okay, Carl,” Markus said softly. First things first, he decided, he had to clean this studio. There was no need for Carl to paint in such a filthy, disorganized space.

While Carl worked on the massive canvas, Markus flitted around the studio, gathering up rolls of paper and cans of paint and stacking them on the various wooden shelves around the room. He picked up paintbrushes and old palettes and set them aside to clean later. Overall, it didn’t take too long to clean the studio, much to his relief.

Right as Markus finished cleaning, Carl called him over, pressing a button on the side of the crane that lowered him down. Markus obediently walked over to his owner’s side, looking at him in concern. Was Carl tired? Did he need to lie down?

But it wasn’t tiredness that prompted Carl to take a break--rather, he seemed… frustrated. He turned to Markus and asked, “So what do you think?”

Markus stared at the artwork with a confused expression on his face. Artwork analysis was not a feature of his programming, unique prototype or not, so he wasn’t quite sure what to say, or what Carl wanted to hear. But… despite all that, something about the artwork struck him.

“There is… something about it,” he said softly. “Something I can’t… quite explain.” A little smile spread across his face. “I guess I like it.” Carl snorted.

“That makes one of us,” he hummed. “It’s just… like I have nothing left to say anymore, Markus. I’m old, and I’ve done all I have to do.” He sighed. “Just an old drake clinging to his brushes.”

Markus furrowed his brow. “Carl…”

Carl shook his head, smiling wryly up at Markus. “Enough about me,” he said. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“I wanna see if you have any talent, Markus. Let’s see what  _ you _ can do with a brush.”

Before Markus could protest, Carl had guided himself back into his wheelchair and was ushering the confused saurodroid over to a smaller, unused canvas resting against the wall nearby. He put a palette in Markus’s paw and gestured to the canvas.

“Go on,” he said. “Paint something.”

“I don’t think I’m programmed for this,” Markus protested.

“Just give it a try,” Carl insisted. “Paint whatever you want, show me what you can do.”

“O… Okay, Carl.” Markus swallowed, though he didn’t need to, as he looked at the canvas. What should he paint…? He could try and recreate the painting Carl had just finished, but somehow he knew that Carl wouldn’t like that. He should do his own work.

Markus caught sight of a bust nearby, a careful sculpt of a fae dragon looking off into the distance. It was an old sculpture, one smeared with accidental paint splatters from years past and tucked away in the corner of the studio. Yes, this would work.

Carefully, Markus began to paint the sculpture and its surroundings, paying special attention to even the smallest of details in order to create the most realistic image he could. It wasn’t the style Carl usually painted in, but that was alright, this could be  _ Markus’s _ style... At least, that’s what he hoped.

When Markus was done a few moments later, he looked expectantly at Carl, only to find a thoughtful expression on the old dragon’s face.

“It’s nice,” Carl said. “Well, not nice, it’s perfect. A perfect  _ copy _ .” Markus winced slightly. “You’ve done a fine job copying reality here, Markus, but that’s not what painting is.” His words and his eyes were gentle as he spoke. “Painting isn’t about replicating the world, it’s about interpreting it, creating something from it that only  _ you _ can see.”

Carl gestured to another empty canvas a few feet away. “Try again,” he said. “This time, I want you to paint from the heart.”

Still not quite understanding what Carl meant, Markus obediently padded over to the other canvas and set it up anyway. He went to start his second painting, but before he could even touch his brush to the canvas Carl was speaking up.

“Markus, please close your eyes.”

“What?” Wouldn’t that make it harder for Markus to paint?

“Just trust me,” Carl said with a smile. “Don’t focus on painting what you  _ see _ , but what you  _ feel _ . Imagine something you’ve never seen and let the brush drift across the canvas.”

That… didn’t make any sense to Markus, but he supposed he would give it a try. He trusted Carl, and he knew the older dragon had enough experience with painting to know what he was talking about.

Markus’s eyes flickered closed and he took a deep breath, the fresh cool air ventilating his systems and allowing him to stay calm. His LED flickered a pale yellow as he lifted his paintbrush to the canvas.

What should he paint? Wait, no, that’s what Carl meant--he couldn’t focus on the  _ what _ , he was supposed to focus on how it made him feel. Allow his paw to drift across the canvas.

As Markus moved his paw this way and that, he allowed his mind to wander. Specifically, his mind wandered to earlier that day, when he’d run into protestors in the city square. They’d been protesting the new laws allowing saurodroids to take on more and more jobs, claiming they were stealing work from dragons who needed to feed their families.

When the protestors had realized a  _ saurodroid _ was walking past them, they seized the opportunity to make an example out of him, shoving him around and slamming him against the earth. Really, Markus was lucky to escape alive--a passing police officer had convinced the protestors to stand down and let him go.

Not out of any concern for Markus’s wellbeing, of course, but because he was a saurodroid-- _ property _ \--and the protestors would have to pay a fine if they damaged him. The officer had even seemed amused at the scene. Markus furrowed his brow, feeling his circuits burning as he painted.

After what felt like hours but was likely only ten minutes or so, Markus was done. He opened his eyes and looked at what he’d created.

Markus took a step back to look at the canvas while Carl looked on, awe clear on his face. The piece Markus had painted was beyond anything he could’ve imagined, and he had a difficult time imagining  _ he _ had been the one to create it.

It was a portrait of himself, or at least a dragon that looked like him. He had a solemn expression on his face as he stared forward, his eyes a dark brown while the rest of him was awash in blue like blood. The canvas was dripping with it, as though it was bleeding. Bleeding with the blue blood that ran through Markus, through all saurodroids.

It was a reflection.

“Oh, my gods,” Carl said to himself. “That… that’s incredible, Markus. That’s beautiful.”

Before Carl could say any more, someone else entered the studio. He was a pearlcatcher, skinny and scruffy as he took small, agitated steps. There was a sneer on his face as he looked around at the paintings before his eyes finally settled on Carl and Markus.

“Having a party without me?” he drawled. Markus rushed to put down his paint palette and brush, moving to stand partly between Carl and the intruder.

“Leo,” Carl said, eyes wide as he looked at the young dragon. “What brings you here? I-I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop in.” Leo’s eyes roved around the room before settling on Carl again. “I mean, it’s been a while, right, Dad?” There was something… off about him that Markus couldn’t quite place. If he was closer, he would scan him, but he didn’t want Leo to catch him doing that. After all, it was clear the other dragon was irritated as it was.

“Are you alright, Leo?” Carl took a step towards his son who quickly backed away, shaking his head rapidly. The pearlcatcher was almost trembling now, and Markus could see his eyes were rimmed with red.

“Whaaat? Yeah, I’m fine!” Leo waved a paw dismissively, and Markus could see a red substance crusted under his claws. What was he doing? “But I, uh, I need some gold.”

Carl’s kind, worried eyes hardened. “Again? What happened to the money I gave you last time?”

Leo shrugged uncaringly, waving a paw as if demonstrating where the gold had gone. “Weell, y’know, it just goes sometimes, y’know!”

“Yeah… are you on it again?” Carl didn’t have to explain  _ what _ he was asking about. Markus already knew the long history of Leo’s drug addiction.

“Nooooo,” Leo said unconvincingly. Carl sighed.

“I’m gonna have to say no.”

“What?” Leo stared at Carl in shock, before his expression hardened into anger. “You can’t do that,  _ Dad _ , you have to give me--”

“I said  _ no _ ,” Carl snapped. “I’m not going to fund your addiction any longer, Leo, you need to get help.”

“Or I need to get out of your fucking way, huh? Is that it?” Leo snarled at his father, baring sharp, discolored teeth. He finally seemed to notice Markus and his snarl only grew wider. “You’d rather take care of a fucking plastic toy than your own flesh and blood, is that right?”

Markus took a reflexive step back as Leo approached him, the pearlcatcher’s tail lashing as he looked Markus up and down. “What’s this piece of plastic got that I don’t? What’s so fucking special about it?” Before Markus could respond or ask Leo, politely, to  _ leave _ , the pearlcatcher lunged forward.

Crusted, dirtied claws tore through the fragile artificial skin of Markus’s face, spilling droplets of blue blood onto the floor of the studio. Markus stumbled back, lifting a paw to his face in an attempt to quell the bleeding.

“ _ That’s enough, Leo! _ ” Carl snarled in turn, darting over as fast as he could in his wheelchair and placing himself in front of Markus. “You have to leave.”

For a brief moment, hurt flickered across Leo’s face. But as quickly as it was there, it was gone, and he turned away.

“Fucking whatever,” he growled. “You don’t care about me, it’s fine. You never did--all you fucking love are your paintings and that stupid plastic pet.”

As Leo stormed out, his steps jerky and agitated, Carl hung his head low and sighed. Markus wasn’t sure what to say, but he felt his circuits burning under his skin. As though he was  _ angry _ at Leo.

The two were left in silence. There was nothing more to say.


End file.
